


Three hours after...

by asparagusmama



Series: After the end...? [3]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Angst, Multi, Self Respect, Strength, not what everyone asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 06:19:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9422234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asparagusmama/pseuds/asparagusmama
Summary: James considers his position following Laura's sudden desertion of Robbie at the airport.





	

James sat opposite Lewis, watching him through narrowed eyes as he poured himself a cup of tea from the dripping metal pot, the kind designed just for cheaper cafes to drive its customers mad. Robbie, from years of experience, had the knack, and lifted the lid slightly, so the dribble of tea considerably lessened. He then added four sugars, two more than usual. Perhaps he felt he was in shock. The shock of Laura seeing through him. He wondered how she was doing, taking that lengthy flight alone, with her heart no doubt as broken as his had been.

What was he doing here?

Robbie’s violently patterned summer shirt stuck out like a sore thumb in the supermarket cafe, in the winter, in the normal town. Everyone else was wrapped up in coats and fleeces and jumpers, dull greys and blues and blacks, for the most part, the odd bright puffa jacket or anorak, the odd bright satin shalwar kameez or sari under a black coat. People were eying him. Them.

James wanted a cigarette far more than the black coffee in front of him. He felt sick to his stomach. He had never set out to compete with Laura Hobson, to make an enemy of her. But in his heart he had, although she had no idea. That he was desperately in love, perhaps she had a clue, she was so sweet when they got together. That she had actually literally taken Robbie from him, rather than crushed his hopeless hopes, that she never knew. Perhaps she hadn’t wanted to see. But Robbie had kept them a secret, just as he had kept his bisexuality a secret all his life. And he had had the audacity to criticize James’ own struggles with coming out to himself!

But then James hadn’t the luxury of being bi. He’d tried, God knows how he had tried and prayed. But then, Robbie had wanted him, and he gave him such love and attention, it hadn’t mattered. Or mattered less, to be accurate.

What was he doing here? Lewis could have got a coach. He should have left him.

“Excuse me,” James stood up. Robbie looked up at him, those deep blue eyes questioning; those deep blue eyes to die for...

“I, er... Loo.”

 

*

 

James stared at his reflection for a long time in the mirror by the door of the Gents.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asked himself. “Where is your self respect? He dumped you four years ago. No! Not even dumped! Are you really going to take him back? He broke you! You, James Hathaway are a pathetic, broken wreck of a man, and it’s his bloody treatment of you. She dumps him and you seriously agree to take him back! Why, because you love him!”

James made a snort of disgust at his reflection.

“You’re a police officer. A detective. How many victims of abuse have you interviewed, how many afraid women have you supported into giving evidence against their abuser, how many afraid women have trusted you to confirm they were bullied into the alibi? How many kept repeating the ‘but I love him’ phrase?

“Just like you all the time you were driving, you moron!

“Did he ever love you, or just use you? He hid you; he let everyone know about Laura, moved in with her! All the time he was with you, all the ‘experimentation’ you let him do... you know you hated it really, but he made you feel like you had to say yes, that if you loved him...”

James put his hand to his face and pulled it down, wiped his face of emotion, of anger and his own hatred of himself, rather than Lewis, then glared at his own reflection.

He froze as he heard a flush from the cubicle. He had assumed he was alone all this time he had been talking to himself. He looked down at his shoes as the man washed his hands and dried them, his suspected his cheeks were flushed pink with a blush. Still, it wasn’t his town; he need never come back...

He jumped as the man put a friendly hand on his shoulder,

“Leave him mate. You’re worth more. Sounds a right bastard.”

James’ head snapped up and he caught the man’s eye, a workingman, in dusty boots and a donkey jacket covered with a yellow high viz, and nodded awkwardly as he left.

James went back to staring at his reflection. 

Yes, he was worth more. Even if Robbie Lewis ended up being the only relationship he ever had, even though he might be demisexual and not fully gay, even if he was alone the rest of his life, it was better than being someone’s secret seconds, someone’s sex toy...

*

The problem was the toilets were at the opposite end to the doors, with the row of checkouts on one side and the various outlets, including the cafe, on the other. He and Robbie had a table at the very edge, too, looking over the barrier at the passing shoppers. While he was musing on routes, the background music changed to the Mission Impossible theme tune (there was some promotion on DVDs, there had been announcements every 15 minutes since they arrived)...

James snorted out a little giggle at the aptness of the music and, with many apologies, pushed his way backwards though the last checkout line queue back into the shop and headed for the middle aisle.

It was touch and go as he came level to the cafe, he could see Robbie Lewis stand up and look around him, searching, and tall and pale and blond as he was, standing out a mile, James ducked back behind a stand of baked beans and corn flakes. He nipped back around to the back of the shop, past the deli and butchers and fishmongers, past the bakery, and headed towards the front door through the toys, glancing wistfully at a Lego Hogwarts... once he had a decent home, he could collect what he wanted, and judgement be damned, he was alone and would always be, whatever made him happy...

*

He lit a cigarette as soon as he got outside, and smoked it on the way back to his car. It was cold, a foggy and frosty November late morning, and he thought with guilt to Robbie in his shirt, all ready for a New Zealand summer. He looked a complete tit too, and High Wycombe was a bit rough for a town. He worried momentarily about the yardies and bangla boys and white trash gangs maybe laughing at his shirt, maybe wrongly connected to sexuality, the way these morons did.

He shook his head in anger at his own thoughts, flicking his cigarette butt away. “He’s been a copper for longer than you’ve been alive, he knows how to take care of himself!” James chastised himself, but nevertheless he felt guilty for abandoned his former boss and former lover and, now he supposed, former friend, although he hoped at some point, they could be friends without it hurting so much, as he had up to now. Robbie had insisted on the continued friendship, as if the relationship had never happened, as if James had no right to feel heartbroken, abandoned, and used, as if they could just go back to before they had had sex. Sometimes he even began to doubt they had had sex! So insistent on the friendship Robbie was, acting all confused and hurt if he didn’t want to go for a pint or come round for a meal. What Lizzie must think of his churlish behaviour, he had no idea.

He was almost about to ring Robbie, let him know he was on his way back to the cafe when the radio came on with the turn of his key – Gloria Gaynor, ‘I Will Survive’...

First I was afraid, I was petrified,  
Then I spent so many nights thinking how you did me wrong,  
And I grew strong...

It was time to grow strong and move forward. There would always be a Robbie Lewis shaped hole in his soul, but there would be work, and music, and books, and apparently he was contemplating model building, which was sad, but not as sad as letting someone ride roughshod over his feelings and wants, never knowing if he could say no, never knowing if he would be abandoned again, always having to be a secret. He began to sing along as he drove.

How bloody gay of you, he sneered inwardly, but as ‘I will Survive’ turned into ‘I Am What I Am’ and he was still singing, he was laughing. At least Robbie had helped him come out to himself, and for that, he would be grateful. And he would always love him. But he deserved better than the treatment over the past five years, so much better. Everyone did.

**Author's Note:**

> I am truly sorry for all those who asked for a sequel to five minutes after. James in my head just wouldn't...
> 
> (apologies for typos, shaking is very bad - if you spot one, point it out please)


End file.
